


Monster Under the Bed

by Trin303



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Boogeyman - Freeform, F/M, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trin303/pseuds/Trin303
Summary: John Wick Kinktober
Relationships: Helen Wick/John Wick
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962415
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Monster Under the Bed

She had always been told not to be afraid. There was no moving shadow in her closet and there was no monster under her bed. Monsters weren’t real. She was safe. Nothing was going to get her.

But Helen knew they were wrong. 

She wasn’t afraid of him, not anymore. When she was very young, the sight of him or his shadow would make her heart race with anxiety and fear. But he never hurt her. On one occasion, she had tried to jump from her bed to run and had fallen and scraped her knee. The boogeyman had picked her back up and placed her in the bed and tucked her in.

When she was nine, she learned to stop talking about him. She had brought him up at dinner one time too many and her parents decided she was too old to still see monsters under the bed and in her closet. They sent her to a shrink who told her that the boogeyman was just a manifestation of her fears.

Helen didn’t like the psychiatrist. He was very sure of himself and very certain there were no such things as monsters.

But she knew better. 

She went home and went to bed, and sure enough, the boogeyman was there, standing in the doorway to her closet.

“Goodnight.” She told him softly.

The boogeyman was real. And, for whatever reason, he was stalking her.

And it didn’t matter where she went. She would spend the night with her grandparents and the boogeyman would follow, standing in the corner behind the door.

When she went away to summer camp, he would watch over her as she slept.

When she was thirteen and her parents divorced, he would follow her from house to house.

He became a more permanent fixture in her life than either of her parents.

Friends would come and go but the boogeyman was there to stay.

…

Things were fine, Helen thought. The boogeyman was real and he followed her but he was harmless. Like a benign tumor. Maybe he wasn’t the most pleasant thing in the world but she didn’t mind his presence.

Until she was sixteen.

Steven Richter had driven her home from school.

No one was home and she had invited him inside. One thing had led to another and studying had turned into Steven kissing her on her bed.

He was handsy and his tongue didn’t seem to know what it was doing but it was her first kiss and so she didn’t mind.

And then, in an instant, Steven was ripped off of her and thrown across the room.

He couldn’t see the dark shadow that stood in front of her, hands clenched in anger and fuming.

Steven had run.

She didn’t blame him.

“What are you doing?” She had screamed at the dark figure when they were alone, “We were just kissing!”

She hadn’t expected a reply and she was not met with one but, for the first time, she thought she could hear breathing coming from her boogeyman.

And Helen didn’t bring home a boy again.

…

She hadn’t known what to expect when she had gone away to college. She had asked him, late one night, just days before she was set to fly out to New York.

“Are you going to follow me all the way across the country?”

The boogeyman hadn’t answered. He hadn’t even moved from his spot, standing vigil over her room. 

The first day of orientation was a blur and she didn’t know what to expect. The entire day, it felt as if her heart was still in her chest, waiting and anticipating what would happen when she retired

And when she reached her room that night, she almost sighed in relief to see the boogeyman standing next to her new bed.

She smiled at him but said nothing. Her new roommate didn’t need to know that she saw things no one else did.

Helen climbed into bed and fell asleep knowing that she was safe.

…

His name was James and he was a junior. A pre-med student who read Dumas and Hugo. Yes, he was a bit pretentious, but he was nice enough. He asked her to come back to his apartment to listen to his vinyl collection and she had accepted.

She was an adult now and had only kissed one boy. Barely. It hadn’t taken long for the boogeyman to throw him from her.

But this wasn’t her apartment.

It wasn’t even James’ bedroom. It was a common room and his roommates were out as the vinyl played softly and they spoke of literature.

And Helen felt a hand on her shoulder. Strange, since she could see one of James’ hands in his lap, the other draped over the couch.

But sure enough, there was a weight trailing across her shoulder and gently caressing her neck.

He was there.

The boogeyman was in the room with them.

His hand curled around her throat, not hard enough to hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt her. But it was a warning.

_ If that boy touches you, I’ll kill him _ .

And Helen excused herself, feigning a headache and mourning the fact that her body ached to be touched. By someone. Anyone. Even a pretentious med student with atrocious taste in music.

She went home and locked the door, curling up on her bed.

Her roommate wasn’t home and so she spoke, “You can’t just hurt any boy who touches me.” 

And, of course, he doesn’t reply. It pisses her off. How dare he? How dare he interfere with her love life when he doesn’t even bother to speak to her. To communicate with her other than the odd comforting touch every few months or years.

A tear slips from her cheek and she feels a weight pressing against her back, wrapping itself around her. The tear is wiped away and Helen leans back into the boogeyman.

“You can’t just keep me forever.” She whispers and the arms around her tighten.

Helen swallows.

Of course, that’s what he intends.

…

Helen throws herself into her studies. She isn't sure what else to do because relationships are off the table so long as the boogeyman is watching her.

Even friends are kind of hard because the boogeyman is such a big part of her life and she can't even mention him.

In her senior year, her roommate had friends over and Helen found herself dragged into a game of never have I ever.

And, of course, it came up. She thought about lying but after half a dozen rounds, Helen still had all her fingers up.

"What, are you a virgin?"

And what could she say?

_ Sorry, I'm in a long-term relationship with the monster under my bed? He's super possessive and has no problem hurting guys I'm interested in? _

It's not like she can just explain to others why she doesn't even go on dates.

So she admits to it and puts up with the teasing and, when she goes to bed, tears in her eyes, he is there. She feels the bed dip and he strokes her hair until she falls asleep.

…

She gets a small apartment after college. It has one bedroom and it smells a bit like mildew but it's cheap and it's hers and she doesn't have to worry about anyone hearing her talk to the monster that follows her around 

He likes the space, she thinks. And she sets a chair up for him next to the bed and idly wonders if she's losing her mind. Is this encouraging him?

But she leaves it and when she wakes up at 2am, the boogeyman is sitting and watching her.

In the morning, her coffee is prepared in a to-go mug that she most certainly hadn't set out.

And just like that, something has changed. The boogeyman is her… friend.

…

Seasons change but the boogeyman doesn't. He still looks the same as he always has. Like a dark shadow that comes and goes corporeally. Sometimes there's a face and sometimes there's a shadowy blur. She decides that she likes his face.

It has high cheekbones and a dark beard. Its lips look soft and, sometimes, its eyes look  _ kind. _

Deprived of touch and attention, she closes her eyes and imagines that face while she showers.

It's… nice but lacking.

At work, a nice man asks her to dinner and she declines, only to go home and have dinner on the couch with the boogeyman next to her.

Helen tries not to think how much power she has given to her personal monster.

…

She turns twenty-six and something in her breaks. Twenty-six years old and she remains a virgin. Twenty-six and she has only had one sloppy kiss.

And it strikes her that it has been ten years since anyone has kissed her.

And it isn't fair.

She doesn't go home after work. She goes to a bar and drinks until the pain in her heart has dulled.

When a stranger propositions her, she doesn't have the mental capacity to remember what her monster is capable of and she takes him home.

The door to her apartment closes and he pushes her into it and presses his thin lips to hers.

She opens her mouth to deepen the kiss but he is ripped away. Helen opens her eyes in time to see red flash in her monsters eyes as the stranger slides across the floor and into the wall.

"Are you serious?" She screams at the monster. 

The stranger staggers to his feet, looking where she does but seeing nothing.

"You're fucking crazy bitch!"

And she shouldn't have said that because her monster flashes with anger yet again and charges at the stranger. He is lifted off the ground by the throat and held up to the wall.

The stranger grips at his throat but he cannot seem to breach thr touch of her monster.

"Put him down!" She shouts at him. "Fuck! Just let him go!"

The boogeyman looks back at her, making eye contact before releasing the stranger to crumple on her floor.

"Run." She tells him and he wastes no time, staggering to thr door and slamming it behind him. 

When the door has closed she looks back at the boogeyman. "Fuck you! I don't belong to you!"

And, of course, he says nothing. Which only adds to her anger.

"Im twenty-six years old and I am tired of never having been  _ really  _ kissed or fucked by anything other than my own hand! So if I go out to get fucked, that is my goddamned right!"

She doesn't seem him move so much as she sees a blur of darkness and she feels her back hit the wall.

A hand is around her throat but this is not like what she has just seen. He is not hurting her, just pinning her in place.

The darkness seems to fade and she sees the outline of his face. Sharp and dark and angry.

" _ No one touches what's mine. _ " He growls and the voice is deep and gravelly and it makes every hair stand on end.

Her mouth opens in shock and a tongue forces its way in. It is strong and thick and she nearly chokes as he claims her mouth 

Large hands grope at her flesh, grabbing at her hips, her waist. There is no mercy in his grip or in his touch.

She is lifted against the wall, opposite from where the stranger had hung minutes before. Helen gasps and the boogeyman steps into her space. Her arms wrap around him, as if she’s afraid he’ll drop her.

His dark lips form a smile and his head tilts to the side in curious wonder.

“ _ You want to be fucked, Helen _ ?”

Her breath stutters and a hand pushes her skirt up her thigh.

She looks between them and, sure enough, her monster looks more human than usual. He is still half-shadow, but his anatomy resembles a human even if his skin feels… different. Thicker and a little leathery but soft.

Her skirt is around her hips and he rips the underwear off her body. Her arms tighten around him involuntarily at the shock.

There’s a sound from her monster, almost like a laugh, and his mouth descends on her neck. His teeth are sharp and they graze her skin so rough that she wonders if she’ll bleed.

But it doesn’t feel bad.

She looks at him and his eyes flash from black to red and back again. His hand moves and she looks down between them. A long, thick cock hangs between his thighs and… fuck, are they supposed to be that big?

But thoughts disappear from her head as his palm rests on her clit and his thick fingers tease her opening.

Helen gasps at the contact and John seizes the opportunity to push a finger fully inside her.

She cries out. It’s only a finger but it feels so good. It curls inside her and she leans into the wall, arching her back, as if she can get more of him into her.

“More!” She begs and tries to bounce on his finger.

The bogeyman growls and another finger breaches her core, stretching her. Helen keens at the contact. It’s a tight fit with both his thick fingers but she grinds down onto him while his thumb runs circles around her clit.

And fuck, she feels herself growing wetter, she feels herself getting hotter, and Jesus Christ. Has this been an option all this time? To have the boogeyman rocking up against her, inside her? 

Why the fuck hadn’t he?

Bastard.

Her arms rescind from around him and she grabs his face, bringing it to hers and she kisses him again. Fuck.

Why does a monster taste so damn good?

How is the boogeyman the best kisser she has ever had?

Probably because he wouldn’t let anyone else touch her.

But fuck…

Maybe she didn’t want anyone else to touch her if her monster kept rubbing her clit like that.

She licks his mouth, sucks on that thick tongue. She wonders what it would feel like between her thighs. Later.

If her monster had proven anything, it was that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She reaches down between them and wraps her hand around his cock, without looking away from his face. His eyes flash red again as she touches the appendage and she licks her lips. Her hand runs his length and back down.

He is hot in her hand and it almost seems to pulse.

The boogeyman bares his teeth at her and, fuck, that’s hot.

Helen feels her toes curl and, god, he speeds up his fingers. They thrust inside her quickly, making her moan. Her hand tightens around his length and her monster makes a sound like a purr.

She wants him.

Helen angles his cock up and the boogeyman moves his fingers, watching her carefully.

She slides the tip up her slit, coating him in the juices, before positioning him at her entrance.

Her monster leans forward and fuck. Fuck. 

His thick cock slowly slides into her, inch by inch. And it hurts and it’s glorious and she has never felt so full in all her life. A sound escapes her throat and she’s not even sure what it is but she knows that the boogeyman feels incredible.

Helen’s arms slip back around him as he gently thrusts into her. 

“Fuck!” She moans and the boogeyman quickens his pace, growling again as he pushes himself deep inside of his woman.  _ His _ . She has been his for years, even if she hasn’t admitted it.

He chose her.

He stayed with her.

No one got to touch her.

No one but him.

The boogeyman keeps his hips moving, fucking his sweet girl. Listening to the moans and the keens that stem from those sweet, plump lips.

Helen squeezes around him and he pushes her harder into the wall. Her soft, little body is rocked between it and him. 

Helen swears again, pressing her head into the crook of his neck as he continues to abuse her little body. 

He thrusts so hard she wonders if she might break, still she begs him for more.

"Harder! Fuck!"

The sounds her monster makes are not human but she can't bring herself to care as he fucks her harder and faster and pleasure builds within her until she can barely breathe.

Helen screams as her orgasm rushes her, hitting her like a freight train. And still, the boogeyman keeps going. Still pumping inside her.

He grabs her hair, suddenly, and yanks her head to the side exposing her neck.

She whimpers in pleasure before it turns to a scream as he bites into her neck.

The world fades after that.

…

He doesn't sleep but, after that night, he spends every night in her bed. She sleeps curled up to him and he holds her through the night. 

Her life slips into an easy routine. She wakes up and her monster makes her coffee. Then she goes to work and counts down the hours until she can go home. 

She eats dinner and then spends her nights alternating between Snuggling with the boogeyman on the couch and letting him fuck her into the mattress until she passes out.

When strangers ask her out, she tells them she is sorry, but she's taken.

It slips out one day, when she's being pressured at work but a man who doesn't believe her when she says she had a boyfriend.

"Well, what's his name?"

"John."

Its the first thing she thinks and, when she tells him about it, he doesn't seem to mind. He especially doesn't mind when she cries out his new name while writhing under him.

People come and go.

But her boogeyman is there to stay.

He is no longer the monster under her bed. He is the monster in her bed. 


End file.
